


Taken

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Claiming, Implied Oral Sex, Jealous Dean, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Dean, Pining Castiel, Possessive Dean, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10078052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: Angels use their wings for most body language. Dean can't see them. Mick can.





	

Dean stared across the table. Mick was stirring his tea ( _ tea _ ) with his pinkie out. 

Like a kid playing fuckin  _ tea party, _ and it was so weird it distracted him from what the Brit was saying. 

For a second. 

“Go back,  _ what? _ ” 

“It’s not that I don’t understand, he’s hardly a prime example of his kind-” 

“Before that,” Dean interrupted, making a rollback gesture with his hand.

“I said, if you aren’t interested, I’d be happy to take him.” 

Dean paused, rolling the phrase over in his head, because Mick couldn’t possibly be saying what it sounded like he was saying. 

“Take him how?” 

Mick laughed. 

“Dean, really, nobody’s gone through the angelic birds and the bees with you yet? His body language couldn’t be more clear.” 

“Bullshit, I’ve known him nine years and seen four facial expressions out of him.” 

“Obviously. Angels communicate with their wings, and ragged as they are, you  _ can’t _ pretend you haven’t seen the interest there.” Mick held up his hands. “I’m not judging, I wouldn’t presume to deny a man his preferences. I understand why you’d turn him away. Castiel has certainly made his share of blunders, and the vessel is… well, it’s nontraditional.” 

“He looks like a normal dude.” 

Mick raised an eyebrow. 

“Quite. In any case, you’ve made it more than clear that you don’t want him, but I thought it polite to announce my intentions before taking him for my own.” 

Dean gaped. 

“Of course I want him, he’s my best friend. He’s not… I dunno, up for grabs or however it is you think this works.” 

Mick rolled his eyes. 

“Dean, I don’t know how to break it to you, but your raggedy angel is very much ‘up for grabs.’ If you look past the vessel, he’s little more than a panting bitch in heat.” 

Dean’s jaw set.

“Okay, you know what?” 

“He really couldn’t be more obvious about it, Dean,” Mick carried on. “The way his wings flare out when you come into the room, he might as well be bending over the table and  _ spreading _ for you-” 

Dean’s fist caught him in the jaw, and there was surprise in his eyes as he went down. 

Whatever reaction he’d expected, it hadn’t been that. Or the boot to the ribs that followed. 

Mick wasn’t a fighter, Dean observed. He didn’t reach for a weapon or even lash out at Dean. He simply curled around his bruised ribs, coughing weakly. 

“He’s not a bitch,” Dean growled, looking down at the pathetic figure on the floor of the diner. “He’s not raggedy. And if you  _ touch _ him, I’ll kill you.”  

Mick nodded once, quickly, not daring to voice a rebuttal. 

Dean stood up, glancing around the diner at the other patrons. 

They wisely decided to go back to their own meals. 

He dropped a couple bills on the table and made it a few steps away before something occurred to him. He turned back to Mick. 

“You said you could see his wings.” 

 

~~~~~

 

Cas looked back and forth between the two texts, trying to figure out if the smeared characters represented a transcription error or a completely separate entity. By his judgement, there were at least three intermediary texts between the two, spanning at least four hundred years, so it’s possible that they were meant to be an exact-

A noise in the hallway startled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Dean standing in the doorway. 

The hunter looked like he’d seen a ghost. 

Cas felt his wings extending in an automatic invitation, but he pulled them back in. Something was clearly wrong; the sentiment was misplaced even if Dean couldn’t see them. 

“What’s happened?” 

Dean licked his lips. 

“I learned something today, Cas. Something about you.” 

The human moved closer and Cas fought the urge to back away. His mind flashed through the things he’d done under the control of the Leviathans- the things he’d done while human- the things he’d done as an  _ angel, _ before even  _ meeting  _ Dean… 

He forced himself to remain still. Whatever Dean had learned, Cas had no excuse. He’d stand and accept the human’s judgement. 

Dean stepped closer, into Cas’s space, and Cas let his wings extend again. Invisibly, they circled the hunter, shielding him in the protection Cas so desperately wished he had the strength to offer. 

“So it’s true then,” Dean murmured, and Cas’s eyes snapped up. 

“What-?” he started to say, but Dean reached up, purposefully trailing his fingers through the feathers encircling him. 

Cas jerked them back, babbling an apology. Dean shouldn’t be able to see the other limbs, let alone  _ feel  _ them- 

“I figured he was full of shit, but he really could see them, this whole time…” Dean said. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Cas’s wings, though the angel did his best to pull the malformed limbs behind him. 

“Who could see them?” Cas demanded. 

“Mick,” Dean answered simply. He grasped a leather cord around his neck, pulling out a familiar charm. Cas stared at it, dumbfounded and humiliated. 

“This whole time… he could see?” 

Cas closed his eyes, unwilling to see what was directly in front of him. He hadn’t bothered to temper his body language, he’d thought no one could see his true form. He’d been trotting after Dean like a lovesick puppy, assuming his actions were hidden- 

And now the hunter was here in front of him, and he knew everything, and Cas had no excuse. 

“Can you spread them out again?” Dean asked. Cas felt a shiver of mortification, but he hurried to comply. He’d been subjecting the hunter to his misshapen wings for years without Dean’s knowledge, there was no hiding them now. 

He spread them wide, arching them toward Dean. The human ran his fingertips along the insides; an ignorant parody of a lover’s caress. Cas held his jaw tight, stifling the pleased moan that threatened to escape. 

There was nothing he could do about the swelling pressure in his cock.

“He said you’d been pining for me,” Dean whispered, and Cas nodded. “Pining” was a bit of an understatement, but he would accept the small mercy. He knew Dean didn’t want him that way; that this would likely be the last encounter he ever had with the man. 

“It was never my intention to impose,” Cas answered instead, his voice low as he tried to ignore the feeling of Dean’s hands on him. The human was curious. Nothing more. 

“I had no idea,” Dean answered. “That you felt that way.” 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. We have both relied on each other on numerous occasions, I didn’t want to imply that there were s-” 

Cas’s voice broke as Dean’s fingers dug into the sensitive underside of his wings. 

“Strings. Attached,” he finished, weakly, when the wave of pleasure subsided. 

“He said that angels did most of their talking with their wings,” Dean said, looking Cas over, still not meeting his eyes. He shook his head. “Eight years I’ve been analyzing squints, and the whole time, you were screaming at me.” 

Cas almost pulled his wings back in, ashamed. It was only Dean’s request that kept them spread. 

Dean took a step closer, his body nearly touching Cas’s, now. Cas arched his hips a little, trying to keep his obvious erection away from Dean’s body. 

“He had a whole list of reasons why I’d turn you down,” Dean muttered, and Cas grit his teeth. He could imagine that list. 

“He was going through them, one after another and I just kept getting more and more pissed. Like any of them would make you matter less to me.”

“Dean-” Cas started, a question on his lips, but he didn’t get to ask. Dean leaned in, pressing their mouths together. 

Cas worried this might be a trick, he might be dreaming, but it didn’t matter. His wings flared wide, encircling Dean completely and pulling him closer. If this was how Cas was meant to die, he’d die happy in this lie. 

“He wanted you,” Dean panted, gripping Cas’s hips and pulling him closer. “Kept talking about taking you for himself.” 

“Never,” Cas growled. His cock was trapped between his belly and Dean’s, and he rolled into the hunter’s body, relishing the friction. “I’d never.” 

“Damn right,” Dean answered. His fingers tangled in Cas’s hair, pulling his head back so Dean could mouth at his throat. Cas rolled his hips again, groaning. 

“This what you want, angel?” Dean asked, reaching between them to palm at Cas’s cock. Cas groaned and held him tighter. 

“He was right about one thing, then,” Dean said. Cas glanced up at him sharply, but Dean was already moving, lifting the angel by the thighs. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, trying not the overbalance them as the hunter moved them backwards. He deposited Cas unceremoniously on the table top, shoving ancient texts out of the way to make room. 

“You’re fucking desperate for it,” Dean whispered in his ear. Cas heard the sound of cloth tearing and realized that Dean had literally torn his slacks open. The hunter dropped to his knees, looking up at Cas with a feral smile. 

“Me too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: 
> 
> http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/118435.html?thread=42984099#t42984099


End file.
